A new mother, smiling happily, sitting against the headboard of a bed, clutched her child gently to her chest. Her ears twitched, and she turned her head toward the door, cradling her child instinctively.
The door thudded open, quickly, and a stream of tall men, wearing red uniforms streamed in, and the child woke up, wailing loudly. The man in front said in a loud commanding voice, "Ma'am, this is a routine search, for all newborns, is your child a male, or a female?"
The mother was bewildered, she'd never heard of this search. "It's a boy."
"Very well, Ma'am, hand the child over."
"Wh-wh-why?" She stuttered.
"Routine procedure. Please do not complicate things, or we will be force to hurt someone, you or your family."
The mother paused, holding her child tighter, sweeping the small tuft of hair off his forehead. The man paused, his hand sweeping quickly to his belt, where he rubbed the side of his wand, staring at the uneasy mother.
Finally, the woman carefully offered the small boy up to the man, who familiarly, looked the boy over, unwrapping his blankets, face emotionless.
"Very well, Ma'am. We'll be going now." He straightened up, and wrapped the boy in the blankets again; he took several steps toward the door.
"Wait, may I have my son back!" She yelled, anxiously.
"No, Ma'am. He is what we need. You won't see him again." The man said softly, and began walking toward the door
The frantic mother got up again, "No! Please! Don't take my son!" She wailed.
The man paused, before growling, "Knock her out, and place her back in her bed."
The mother struggled forward, before being overwhelmed by the Stunner that hit her chest. The men tucked her into bed, and followed their leader out into the early night heat of early August.
The small black-haired boy, opened his sleepy green eyes, and cooed happily, a warm breeze stirring his hair, and allowing a pale, jagged mark to shine on his forehead.
He didn't know that he'd be raised to be a warrior, or suffer fits of depression so bad, that he just wanted to crawl into bedand die.
He certainly didn't know, that at the age of sixteen, his best friend would raise his wand, and in a fit of jealousy, kill him.
And all because of a mark on his forehead, all because of a savior, lost too early, after completing his job. And all because of a boy, who died too young.
AN:One of the main reasons all I'm writing are these short things, is the fact that I'm wirking on a short story for a contest that is in a few weeks. The other is my blasted computer, which I'm pleased to say, I'm sending away for repairs. Oh well, review.